


for the half of a century no mortal has disturbed

by probablyaceok



Series: Cy’s DSMP Febuwhump Attempt [9]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Buried Alive, Dream Is Cornelius (Dream SMP), Episode: e002 The Village That Went Mad, Episode: e005 The Masquerade, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Immortal Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Immortality, Temporary Character Death, Web Series: Tales from the SMP, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29317800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablyaceok/pseuds/probablyaceok
Summary: Febuwhump Day 9: Buried AliveThere are costs to immortality.
Series: Cy’s DSMP Febuwhump Attempt [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140014
Comments: 8
Kudos: 119





	for the half of a century no mortal has disturbed

He opened his eyes to darkness, the cold of a wooden box around him, and the smell of dirt. After a moment of panic, he started banging against the wood above him, screaming out for help. Surely someone was around to hear him?

Somewhere inside, he knew his attempts would be futile. The town he’d chosen was one far from any other settlement, with only a few others living there. He’d chosen it for a reason, a place he could settle down for a time after the wars.

As the hours passed, he kept banging on the wood of the coffin around him, hoping someone would pass by and hear. Slowly, the air he was breathing became stale and his breaths became shorter. The movement of his arms became slower and slower, and finally he fell unconscious, his last thoughts were of the home he’d found in that small town and the people he’d met there…

He opened his eyes to darkness, immediately gasping for breath. This… it’s not his bed, did it reset? He’d died twice before he’d found that small peaceful town, and the third time… the third time he must have left a body, a body that was buried, a body that somehow came back to life even after using up all three lives. He suffocated quickly in the tight space.

He opened his eyes to darkness again and again and again, his only reprieve in the small blackness after every third death. Over and over and over again, he died in that small space, suffocating over and over and over again. 

He didn’t know how long it lasted. Sometimes he heard sounds above ground, but his voice had long since died. Maybe it was weeks, months, years, even decades. But eventually…

There’d been more noise than usual the last few cycles. He wasn’t too eager about it, it had happened before, giving him a false hope of rescue, before returning to silence, but this time was different.

This time, he heard the sound of a metal shovel clank against the wood of his coffin. He heard a call, words he could actually make out, although it didn’t sound quite like the language he was familiar with. He heard a command called back, louder, saying to throw it, him out, they were trying to renovate the mansion— there was a mansion?

He could feel it as the coffin was picked up, moved, and thrown, and it finally, for the first time in decades, it cracked open and he was able to pull himself out. 

As he gasped in his first breath of air in what felt like eternity, he looked around his surroundings, seeing he’d been dumped on a pile of stones and old wooden furniture at the back of what indeed, appeared to be a mansion. As he looked around, he could barely recognise the area, although at least the spruce forest had remained the same.

He pulled himself up on shaking legs, his body might have been as fit as when he first died, but his mind was unused to moving, and considered his options, ignoring the desire to just scream at the sky pushing against the back of his mind.

Apparently he was immortal and after what he’d just experienced, he never wanted anyone else to know that. Better they just thought he died like anyone else. He’d need a new name as well, he didn’t want someone to connect him to his old identity: at some point in the cycle of dying and being reborn over and over again he’d given up on that old life. He cast around his mind for a name, he didn’t really care what, and there! He decided.

After all, Hubert was a far cry from Cornelius.

**Author's Note:**

> this was fun to write! the basic concept remained the same though the development of the idea, although originally it took place at an alternative version of the Green Festival, and included Quackity knocking Dream out with a shovel.


End file.
